Mrs.
Dillingham admitted the boy, then called the servant, and told him that, while the lad remained, she would not be at home to any one.

As soon as the pair were in the drawing-room she stooped and kissed the lad, warming his heart with a smile so sweet, and a manner so cordial and gracious, that he could not have told whether his soul was his own or hers.
She led him to her seat, giving him none, but sitting with her arm around him, as he stood at her side.
"You are my little lover, aren't you ?" she said, with an embrace.
"Not so very little!" responded Harry, with a flush.
"Well, you love me, don't you ?" "Perhaps I do," replied he, looking smilingly into her eyes.
"You are a rogue, sir." "I'm not a bad rogue." "Kiss me." Harry put his arms around Mrs.Dillingham's neck and kissed her, and received a long, passionate embrace in return, in which her starved heart expressed the best of its powerful nature.
Nor clouds nor low-born vapors drop the dew.

It only gathers under a pure heaven and the tender eyes of stars.

Mrs.Dillingham had always held a heart that could respond to the touch of a child.

It was dark, its ways were crooked, it was not a happy heart, but for the moment her whole nature was flooded with a tender passion.